Scondrel
by miasu7
Summary: This story is the interaction between Margaret and ornton after the workers storm the factory, assuming the rock missed her.


[Type here]

This is assuming that when Margaret rushes out after when the workers break in, the rock misses her.

The rock missed her head by a fraction of an inch. Time froze as the crowd stilled. Suddenly someone yelled and the men started to scatter. Mr. Thornton pushed Margaret back inside. He slammed the door behind them. He paced back and forth, glancing at her ever couple laps. Margaret was trying to control her breathing, but she couldn't help the quick, shallow pants. Before she could speak, he turned to look at her. Although his gaze was hard, his voice was soft.

"Are you hurt?"

Margaret looked down to check, as if she wouldn't have known. She smiled at herself, and then shook her head. He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. When he spoke again, his voice was deep.

"You cannot do things like that."

"Excuse me?"

"That stunt you just pulled, Margaret."

"It is hardly your place to tell me which behaviors are appropriate! You are not my father nor my brother." Who did this man think he was? Bossing her around. "You may be used to getting your way, but it is not required. I think we are quite done." She went to move past him but he grabbed her upper arm, holding her there. She gasped at his audacity and looked up, ready to admonish him for behaving in such a way. The rage in his eyes silenced her. It reminded her of their first meeting.

"I would not make the mistake, of assuming I have any control over you. I doubt anyone does." He had not meant to say the second part. Margaret flushed. "Furthermore, I am not overly concerned with what is appropriate, Miss Hale. I care very little what others may think of you."

"Propriety is clearly not of importance to you, . You have proven time and time again, that you are no gentleman.

"It is good then, I never claimed to be a gentleman." He took a step towards her. Without thinking she took a step back, to maintain what little distance there was between them. She felt her back hit the wall. He leaned down, almost hissing,

"Although, I don't suppose you keep company with many gentleman, so you are hardly in a position to give judgement."

Margaret's mouth fell open. She was not prepared for such a statement. While Mr. Thornton was often harsh, he had never been downright mean. She knew what people were saying of her and her family, but no one had thrown it in her face in such a way. A scowl formed on her face. She tried to yank her arm out of Mr. Thornton's grasp.

"Miss Hale, you have done a fine job ruining your reputation without my help, but I care little of servant gossip. Furthermore, I am not required to be a gentleman, to be concerned for your safety."

"My safety? I believe I am more at danger, here with you, than I was outside." She tried again to pull her arm away from him to prove her point. Mr. Thornton loosened the grip on her arm, but did not let go. She suddenly became aware of how close he was, and froze. Her breath grew shallow and fast. This was definitely not appropriate. He gazed down at her, and a small smile flashed across his face, so fast she almost thought she imagined it.

"Yes, I suppose you are. It is unwise to keep company with men like me." The humor in his voice did not extend to his eyes. His eyes were still dark but didn't reflect the earlier rage. Margaret watched his face, looking for some hint to what he was thinking.

"And why is that?"

He didn't answer. Instead he slowly slide his hand up her arm until it rested on the back of her neck, where he began making small circles. Margaret knew she should stop him, but she was still frozen. It felt as if sparks flew from his fingertips. She forced herself to look him in the eye but her voice shook,

"I think I have made an accurate assessment of your character, regardless of the company I keep."

His hand move around to her collarbone, his finger lightly tracing it. When he spoke his voice was ragged.

"I had never been accused of such things until I met you." He removed his hand, and used it to prop himself against the wall behind her as he leaned in. Before she knew what he was doing, she felt his lips on her neck. She gasped as he planted small kisses up to her ear. She could feel his hot breath on her neck when he spoke. "You have made me a scoundrel."

He pulled back so he could see her. She was trying to process this. She was unsure whether to see this as an accusation or an admission. Either way it was far too forward. Before she could decide whether to be offended, he pressed his lips down on hers. His free hand found her waist, and pulled her towards him. He felt her body tense, but after a split-second her lips began to move against his. A loud crash came from upstairs, someone dropped a plate. When he pulled away from her, they were both breathing heavy. He gazed at her in wonder.

"What have you done to me?" Margaret could barely hear his whisper and was unsure if she was meant to hear it. She felt a blush spread across her cheeks.

"I should go." Before she makes a complete fool of herself, her mind added. Mr. Thornton's gaze had turned to unreadable, but remained on her. Pushing past him she rushed out the door. Her mind was running faster than she could think. She was unsure what bothered her more; his behavior or her reaction to it.


End file.
